A Future Reminiscence
or,
Meandering Observations on Exchanging a Facsimile for an Experience.
"Advances in technology may not be so important to our experience as the compromises we make in order to enjoy the 'benefits' of the technology."
I don't care much for contemporary retail. I won't go into it here. If you know me you know my opinions and the underlying issues and sentiments.
Having said that, one of the most enjoyable experiences I've had came recently when one of my favorite contemporary authors of popular detective fiction - Michael Connelly - appeared at a store where I sometimes work.
(This being a somewhat longer post I'm putting the rest behind a cut.)
I often recommend his books to readers and it isn't unusual to find a shelf-talker in the Cs with my name and a brief note about one of my favorites of his. After the event, in which I had no involvement and was occupied most of the time answering the phone and other pedestrian tasks, Mr. Connelly spent a few minutes wandering the area. He made his way over to me, introduced himself and said, "I'm told you're the one I need to thank for the recommendations of my books." We then went on to exchange a few words, none of which had to do with "Where do you get your ideas?" nor "Is Harry Bosch based on someone you know" nor, mercifully, "How do you like it here in the mall?" The entire exchange took under 3 minutes, just some courtesy and respect between two people, and then he was gone.
Over time I've had the pleasure of some type of pleasant interaction with the likes of Anne Rice, Stephen King, LeAnn Rimes (huh huh), Clint Black, Michael Johnson, Pat Summitt, Charlton Heston, Eddie George, John Denver, Robert Benson, Garrison Keillor, Richard Marius*, and so many others I've temporarily misplaced the memory. Some of you know what I'm talking about and could add more names to the list.
Just yesterday Felix Cavaliere went out of his way to speak to me. Felix effing Cavaliere, one of the musicians that helped - along with Booker T. Jones and others, define the sound of the Hammond B3 organ in music - making small talk with the likes of Mister Jimmy.
Admittedly, not all of these people are literary luminaries but it goes to my point, at least in my mind. The interactions, in whatever form, were connected to books.
There are people alive who will one day - perhaps that day is near - remark, probably to someone much younger, "I remember when folks used to get excited about the release of a book, in the cover design, even the feel and texture of the jacket. You'd go into a bookstore and look inside to see if that copy might be a first edition. Sometimes authors might even come to your town and you could hear them speak and then they'd autograph your book, right there in front of you."
Now technology gives us the Kindle.
It had to happen and people have been asking for it for years. So what's the big deal? Well, just this. If one can download a book, I mean, where does the author sign? And, by extension, why should an author even tour? Take this to its logical extreme and you end up with only the biggest-selling titles by only the biggest-selling writers appearing at only the biggest mega-centers in a couple of cities. And where will we go for such interaction as I describe above?
I like books. I like the visceral experience of the book: the choice of paper, the design, the font used in the text, the stock used for the dust-jacket, the artwork and illustration on the jacket. No matter what perceived advantages marketing types can offer, I don't anticipate any authentic "book" experience with an electronic reader. It's already enough I have to trade conversation over coffee, or handwritten notes and letters, for email, and text messaging for phone calls. I can see a day when bookstores will offer nothing but used books; or books that are limited print runs and therefore prohibitively expensive; or some of the former but mostly beads, bells, gold chains, candles and fru-fru gee-gaws, possibly even office supplies and (scented) Martha Stewart motor oil. But that's just me, and when it comes to such things I am proudly a bit of a Luddite.
Advances in technology may not be so important to our experience as the compromises we make in order to enjoy the "benefits" of the technology.
*The late Richard Marius was a highly regarded writer of biographical and historical works as well as a number of novels. In recent years he was the director of the expository writing program at Harvard before succumbing to cancer. But it was as a professor of history that I first met Dr. Marius many years ago, his area of expertise being the Renaissance and Reformation and his classes had the equivalent of a waiting list. I was one of those students - in those days - that tended to sit in the back so as not to call too much attention to myself. Until Dr. Marius - in going over a recent writing assignment - read out loud to the class the preface I'd written to the assigned paper, "not as an example of the best paper, but so you could get an idea of what really good writing and thinking is like." I had the joy of recalling that experience with Dr. Marius after an appearance to sign his latest and, I believe, last book.